That wasn’t the most eye-catching part.
It was the column of fire consuming the corpse. It roared at least ten feet into the sky. Far higher and hotter than I would have thought possible given there’d been no smell of smoke or ash on the man who’d run inside. For that reason, I assumed the fire had to have been started in the limited span of time since he’d fled.
For the blaze to be this fierce, I could think of only one reason—magic.
There was a gasp from the crowd as the bones supporting the corpse’s head snapped. The skull fell, hitting the ground before rolling to a stop in front of me.
The sound of retching came from a bystander.
“This is awful,” someone whispered.
It really was.
The flesh on the skull was charred and peeling, destroying the soft tissue and rendering the features unrecognizable. In places, the fire had burned all the way down to the bone.
Caroline looked sick.
“You okay?” I raised my eyebrows at her, noting the amber bleeding into her blue eyes. A sure sign that her wolf was too close to the surface.
Her nod was jerky.
“Really, Aileen,” she assured me, picking up on my skepticism. “If my control slips, I’ll excuse myself.”
An out-of-control werewolf was a serious matter. Beyond the possible rampage, there was also the fact that such an action could lead to a death sentence for her.
As a demon tainted wolf, she existed under a more stringent set of rules. The pack tolerated her because she had control of her other self. If she jeopardized that, there was a chance their forbearance might vanish.
Despite my worry, I didn’t challenge her claim. Sometimes it was easier to maintain control when you pretended to have your shit together.
Fake it until you make it didn’t just apply as a confidence booster. Normal had always been a state of mind rather than a reality.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I said.
If I sensed her heading in a bad direction, I’d intervene. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
Connor squatted by the head, drawing a grimace from Caroline and an interested look from Callie. He poked it. The skull rolled onto its occipital bone, if I remembered my high school biology class correctly. The fire had burned away the lips and skin around the mouth, giving us a good view of the teeth.
Wouldn’t you know it—two were noticeably longer than the rest. The same two that would have been called fangs on a vampire.
I rubbed my forehead. “Shit.”
“I didn’t think the situation could get any more fascinating,” Callie said in amusement. Her features held the clinical detachment that was understandable in an assassin. She’d probably seen things much worse than this. Though this was pretty bad.
Probably in my top three most gruesome sights.
If the sun’s arrival didn’t leave me comatose, I was pretty sure it’d be a while before I got a good night’s sleep again.
A curl slithered over Callie’s shoulder, questing over the charred bones of the skull. A forked tongue flicked out to taste the air before a hiss left her hair snake.
Connor rose, wiping the finger he’d poked the skull with on his pants. “Someone will need to inform Liam.”
Would it be too immature to scream “not it”?
Maybe a little. But did that really bother me?
I thought long and hard—the answer was no. Particularly since I had a good idea what Liam’s reaction was going to be after telling me to keep a low profile.
In a word—furious.
